CRUNCH

      he was new to our house

      parked his little
      Boston
      car
      in an intelligent place
      for the night

      but what he didn't know
      was how
      I pulled out
      going for beer
      at 2 a.m.

      crunch
      it went
      & only hurt my back
      a little bit

      there was suddenly
      this car
      where no car had
      ever been before
      at 2 a.m.

      didn't hurt
      the little red car
      from Boston

      but it sure raised hell
      with my bumper

      I know
      I checked
      after
      I came back
      with the beer

      & told him
      maybe
      there was somewhere's else
      he could par     



      BORN AGAIN

      this one, he loves
      god
      finding
      meaning
      after such
      a painful search

      that saw him
      moving through
      the floating realms
      of dope
      mystifying
      everyone
      with arcane
      statements

      truth
      he thought
      he'd heard
      on some trip
      to a place
      he thought
      we'd never been

      now he talks
      to Jesus

      smiles, looks you in the eye
      shakes hands hard
      & often

      placing the thing
      he thinks
      he is

      right out front

      it's lovely

      but don't buy
      a car from him
      or loan him tools

      his type of faith
      is built
      on the acts
      of fools



BOB DYLAN, YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH, YOU

he lay there
in the darkness
the earphones
firmly
attached

the volume up
not as high
as it would go
but high enough
to rock the old house
without the earphones

the hugeness
of his body
supine
in the darkness
his mind racing

bob dylan, you son-of-a-bitch
his slow moving mind
told him

this all started somewhere
& the pain of beginnings
is so like
the pain
of endings

bob dylan
you wonderful, lovable
son-of-a-bitch
somebody heard
you

beyond the need for jesus
& beyond the need
for that frantic vibration
& even beyond
the need for handsome sons

somebody heard you
& perhaps hates
you for it

& reaches for his gun.



HARD LIQUOR

all of us
who have known
hard liquor
have cried
for it at some time
in our existence

the painful memories
grow old
in the darkest
regions of our minds

sometimes
we give that out,
share it with
those who would be
friends

sometimes
it dies with us

sometimes
we die
& forget
the reason for these
sudden deaths

but the cry of hard liquor
will be heard
as long
as this world moves
the way it does

as long as some
are sacrificed
for the few

as long as we believe
ourselves to be
less than the gods
we will find times
to cry
for hard liquor

& may it always be there
when we need it

especially

the morning after.


SUCKIN' SNOT

she'd been sick for more than a week
sinus blocked, sore throat, head
aching like god had hit her
right between the eyes

finally
     to sick to work
we got her down to Kaiser Emergency

they give her
dynamite sinus pills
guaranteed strong enough
to drain
the very ass of jesus

twelve hours later
she is flat on her back
the bed smelling
of sickness
         pain in her eyes
the sinus not draining

& I'd taken the same pills
on the advice
of the nurse practitioner
only to find my car-wrecked nose
draining enough
to drown
a big catfish

we're just talking
passing the time
while she decided
whether or not to die

& I sucked a little wad
of sinus drainage
down into the back
of my throat
walked out on the porch
and spit on the ground

"How do you do that?"
she asked

astounded
I was speechless
for a minute

"Just set up suction with your tongue,"
she'd never smoked so didn't know how
to draw on a cigarette
"Pull the snot down into your throat.
Then you either swallow it
or spit it out.
Simple."
or so it seemed to me
until I realized
by the blank look
on her pain wracked face
that she didn't know
what in hell
I was talking about.


I BELIEVE THESE WORDS
& know their need

even as the bad bourbon
rides sour
in my mouth
I know a day will
come
when all this useless
knowledge
will prevail

these guns
I hoard
these bullets
& the knowledge
of where
to get the rest

this ax
that's always sharp

this ability
to move against the wind

the moving of fire
against
a thing
to make it palatable

these skills
half-learned
moving
      amongst
the blood
will one day
be needed

everything
falls apart

the political thing
dissolves
the economic thing
comes apart
the weather goes
gone bad crazy

& yet I know these
strange skills
will someday
be of consequence

a day will come
when a strong band
of people, small in number
will follow across
the mountains

the son, who now despises,
if he prevails
will grow broad of shoulder
keen of mind
knowing
that some skills
are learned
& shared

will stand
near the fire
say few words
but indicate
by presence
a willingness
he now does not possess

through the rain & cold
& sunny times of heat
we move

& the movement
as certain
as other times

as men
who knew words
& tools

hands will move
& in that movement
find
fulfillment

striking deep
into the cunt
of a woman
remaining
for the long
great feast to follow
& the pain
it always brings

those young
will move against
their fathers
like
the ones who went
before

& yet
the skills
will move
through the blood
& anger
to a time
when skills are shared
when youth
is nothing more than
smallness

when the ability
to perform
describes the man

the woman
moving
as she always has
in rhythm
with the seasons
in control
& not controlled
by pessimistic
ampersands
that
bitch & itch
& struggle to control

those times will come

believe me, friend
I tell you this
in honesty
a vision shared

by ready
it will happen
& when it does
there will be no place
for weakness

strength will be
the thing that works
that feeds the clan
that kills
the ravaged beast
amongst us

that offers up
the hope
of something
called survival

then look to tools
& though they may be only words

they'd better work.


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